


Technical Kidnapping

by Diary



Series: Argent Pack [2]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Allison Argent-centric, Alternate Universe - No Hale Fire, Awesome Allison Argent, Awesome Victoria Argent, Awkward Conversations, Bechdel Test Fail, Child Abuse, Family, Friendship/Love, Gen, Interspecies Friendship, Interspecies Romance, Late Night Conversations, Male Character of Color, POV Multiple, Werewolf Allison Argent, Werewolf Victoria Argent
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-11
Updated: 2016-04-11
Packaged: 2018-06-01 16:08:54
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,626
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6526942
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Diary/pseuds/Diary
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Reposted under different title. One Sunday morning, Isaac inquires, “Mrs Argent, could I be like you and Allison?” Complete.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Technical Kidnapping

**Author's Note:**

> I do not own Teen Wolf.

Victoria frowns when she sees Allison lying on the bed and staring at the ceiling. Setting down the laundry basket and coming in, she inquires, “Sweetheart, what’s wrong?”

Sighing, Allison sits up. “Mom, after you and Dad moved in together, did you ever pretend to suck for his benefit?”

Sitting down, Victoria asks, “What do you mean, sweetie?”

“Lydia’s a literal genius, and she’s so strong and funny. But whenever she’s around Jackson, she pretends like she’s a ditz, and- you do a lot of things for me and Dad. You usually do the cooking, you still clean my room, and you tell everyone how great he is. It’s different with them.”

“Teenagers can have warped priorities,” Victoria answers. “I’m the best cook in this house, sweetheart, and as long as you make an effort to pick up after yourself, I don’t mind helping you keep your room clean. It’s the same with the rest of the house. I tell everyone how great you and your father are, because you both are wonderful people I’m very proud of. Likewise, your father brags about us, and he’s always been very supportive of our goals. We’ve worked together to raise you since you were seven.”

“No,” she continues, “I’ve never pretended to be less than I was for his benefit, and there will be trouble if I ever find you doing so for some boy. Unfortunately, I don’t know what you can or should do about Lydia. If she thinks doing this is important, I doubt anyone will change her mind. It’s something she has to realise for herself.”

Leaning against her, Allison asks, “Why wouldn’t her mother teach her better?”

“You don’t know that her mother hasn’t tried,” Victoria offers. “A parent can try to guide their child down a certain path, but if the child doesn’t want to go down it, things can get messy and ugly. There’s often no winner.”

…

“Can I sit with you today?”

Cora Hale looks up from her book and makes a vague motion with her hands.

“Thank you,” Allison says.

In response, Cora goes back to eating her food and reading her book. From the title, Allison thinks it has something to do with choral music. She considers asking if Cora likes such music or if it’s for a class but decides it’ll only irritate Cora.

Lydia’s off with Jackson somewhere, and she hasn’t made any other friends.

That needs to change, soon, she decides.

The Hales are great. Talia Hale is kind and funny, her brother, Peter, is charming and smart, and her children, aside from Cora, are all welcoming. Cora, however, seems as if she’d rather be an omega. While Peter can make Cora smile and laugh, Cora doesn’t appreciate it when he does.

Cora finishes lunch.

When Allison finishes hers, Cora reaches over and wordlessly takes her trash.

“Oh,” Allison says. “Thank you. You don’t need to-”

When Cora comes back, Allison searches her mind for something to say and ends up blurting out, “Um, do you have a boyfriend?”

“I like girls,” is the disinterested reply.

“Do you have a girlfriend?”

“No.”

“Thanks for letting me sit with you.”

“Your alpha has a treaty with mine.”

“Right,” Allison says. “Well, have a good day.”

She quickly walks away from the table and ends up bumping into someone. “Sorry.” She leans down and catches the cartoon of milk before it hits the floor.

A louder than average heartbeat hits her ears, and she looks at the person she bumped into with concern. “Are you okay?”

It’s a boy with dark blond hair and blue eyes. Isaac, her mind supplies. He’s in her art class, and despite the way he’s shrunk into himself, he’s taller than she is.

“Fine,” he mutters. “Thank you,” he continues when she puts his milk back on the tray. “S-sorry. For knocking in-into you. T-thank you.”

He rushes off, and a familiar, unpleasant feeling overtakes her.

On the day her former pack was killed, she and her mother were taking a bath when a horrible feeling suddenly hit her. She’d told her mom, and the bath had ended early. Just as the water was finished draining from the tub, the smell of smoke and screams filled the house.

She doesn’t know why this feeling is back, but she’s going to find a way to stick close to Isaac until she figures it out.

…

During English, she asks to be excused and sneaks into Harris’s classroom. The physics teacher is on maternity leave, and he’s filling in for her. Allison’s not exactly sure if she’ll be able to keep doing this once the physics teacher comes back, but she’ll figure it out when it happens.

She sniffs his water bottle before pouring a small amount in her hand and bringing it up to her mouth. She laps it up and is relieved to taste nothing up water.

During the weekend, he drinks enough he still vaguely smells of it on Monday. She’ll admit this is his business, but if he ever truly smells of it during school or even just has something alcoholic among his possessions, it becomes her parents’.

After sniffing the rest of the room, she leaves and sees Scott McCall getting a drink from a nearby water fountain.

“Great,” she mutters.

Scott McCall is cute, sweet, and makes her have thoughts she isn’t used to having about boys.

He also seems to be eager to escape every time they find themselves talking.

Just quickly walk past, she tells herself. Just walk-

“Allison?”

“Hey, Scott. I was just- Never mind.” She waves the bathroom pass.

He radiates discomfort. “I, um, saw you eating lunch with Cora Hale. Uh, I was wondering-”

“I don’t think you’re her type,” she blurts out.

“What? I mean, no. I know. She’s a lesbian, and she kind of gives the impression of hating everyone.”

“That’s true.”

“I was just, uh, wondering, if Lydia isn’t back tomorrow, would you like to sit with me and Stiles?”

“I'd love to,” she answers. “But are you sure it’d be okay with him?”

“Oh, totally,” he assures her. “Just- be prepared for some weirdness. It takes some time for most people to get used to him.”

“I can handle weird.”

“Great,” he says. “Well, uh, I better get back to class.”

“Me too,” she agrees.

They part, and once he’s completely gone, she lets her head make contact with the wall.

…

After school, she calls to tell her mom she’s going to be late and follows Isaac home.

She hopes it doesn’t qualify as stalking, but if it does, she’ll just keep telling herself she’s not like most stalkers. As soon as she figures out what’s causing the feeling, she’ll leave Isaac to his life.

Drumming her fingers against the steering wheel, she wishes she had some coffee and hopes no one comes over to ask her what she’s doing.

Her senses are still honed to Isaac’s heartbeat, and just as the sky starts to turn from blue to a dusky pinkish-red, it makes her jump when there’s a sudden burst of speed. The feeling grows worse, and she takes a deep breath and concentrates on isolating his voice.

“No, Dad, please- I’m sorry, I’ll do better, no, please, please-”

There’s a sickening slam, and suddenly, both Isaac’s heart and whimpers are strangely muffled.

Pocketing her keys, she goes up to the Lahey house, rings the doorbell, and starts knocking.

A man answers the door, and ignoring his irritated look, she pushes past him, and trying to pinpoint Issac's location, says, “Hi, I’m sorry. I really need to speak to your son. I’m a friend from school."

“Isaac,” she calls. “It’s Allison Argent, from art class! We ran into each other in the cafeteria!”

She starts walking, dodges Lahey’s attempts to stop her, and ignores his rising voice.

Down in the basement, she shivers as she remembers her mother lying on top of her and coming back to consciousness to find her mom badly burned and completely unresponsive.

She’s confused when she can’t see Isaac anywhere.

Then, her eyes fall on a padlocked refrigerator, and the feeling almost makes her kneel over.

When Lahey grabs her arm, she shoves him away, moves over to pull the padlock off, and opens the door.

Isaac freezes, and she belatedly realises she’s shifted.

“Get up,” she orders. “You’re coming home with me.”

“O-okay."

He shakily stands up.

She hears Lahey cussing and demanding to know what she is and what she thinks she’s doing, and she thinks, Oh, good, I didn’t kill or severely maim him.

He tries to block them, and she lets out a small growl. Grabbing Isaac’s wrist and making sure she’s not putting any pressure on it, she informs Lahey, “He’s coming with me. My dad is responsible for all the guns, Tasers, and batons all the police in this town carry, and he’s on a first name basis with the sheriff. My mom can clean a place so well that forensics will never find anything, and she and Mr Whittemore like to meet for lunch and talk about the law. Let me take him, and you won’t be hurt.”

…

“Mom! Dad! Emergency!”

They both rush out, and she feels Isaac trying to hide behind her. Motioning for them to stop, she tells them, “I messed up. But I had to- he put him in the freezer!”

Carefully approaching, her mother responds, “Allison. Who is this boy? Did he put someone in a freezer?”

“No,” Allison answers. “Just-”

She takes a deep breath and gently pulls Isaac beside her. “Mom, Dad, this is Isaac Lahey. I broke into his house and technically kidnapped him. His father had him locked in a refrigerator. It had a padlock on it.”

Her father breathes out. “Okay." Coming over, he says, “You did the right thing, sweetheart. Isaac, why don’t you and Allison come to the kitchen? I’ll make some hot chocolate. Sorry, we don’t have any sodas.”

“Yes, sir,” Isaac agrees.

She suddenly remembers the fact he knows what she is. “Wait. Uh, I also-”

The doorbell rings, and there’s pounding on the door.

As her dad’s trying to guide them both into the kitchen, she blurts out, “He knows what we are. Or at least, what I am. They both do.”

Sighing, her mother opens the door and reaches out to stop Lahey when he makes a move towards Isaac. Closing the door, she greets, “Coach Lahey, hello. I hope we can keep this brief and civilised. For the time being, your son will be living with us. If that doesn’t work out, we’ll find other arrangements. So long as he’s under eighteen, however, you will have no unsupervised contact with him. When would be a good time for us to pick up his things?”

Everyone is quiet until the cursing dies down.

Shifting, her mother says, “Let me put this very clearly: If not for the fact your son goes to school with my daughter and knows our secret, I would kill you. Since he does, however, just as long as you stay away from him, I won’t. I can make your death look like a heart attack, an animal attack, or even a suicide. No one would believe either you or him if one of you tells. Medical tests confirm we’re perfectly human, and everyone knows werewolves only exist in fiction. Frankly, you’re lucky we’re not only letting you live but also not calling the police. Now, would tonight be a good time for my husband to pick up Isaac’s stuff, or would some other time work better for you?”

There’s a long moment of silence.

“Tonight’s fine,” he grits out.

“Good,” her dad says. Taking his gun out, he cocks it before putting it back. “What do you need, Isaac?”

She rolls her eyes but looks over and catches Isaac’s when his vitals spike. “Don’t worry. My dad would never shoot an unarmed person, unless they attacked him. He’s just taking it for protection. He’s not like my mom and me.”

“Yes,” her mom agrees. “You may call your father after Chris gets back, if it’ll make you feel better.”

“Uh- I promised my brother I’d take care of his DVD collection,” he says. “There’s a photo of me, my mom, and Camden -my brother- in the living room. I’m wearing green overalls, he has on braces, and my mom has a smudge of blue paint on her cheek. My IPod, please, I bought it with my own money. Other than that, just my clothes and school stuff.”

“Allison, take Isaac to the kitchen,” her mom orders. “I’ll be there shortly.”

Tugging him along, Allison coaxes, “It’s okay. Everything will be fine, I promise.”

…

After her dad and Coach Lahey are gone, her mom comes into the kitchen. “You don’t have to be afraid, Isaac. Most werewolves are very peaceful creatures. I’ve never attacked a human unprovoked, and neither has Allison.”

“I’m not scared,” he replies, and Allison is surprised to realise all signs point to him telling the truth. Taking a shuddering breath, he says, “Th-thank you. All of you.”

“We’re happy to help,” her mom says. “If you live here, you’ll be expected to follow our rules, but I assure you, no one will ever do anything close to what your father did.”

He nods. 

…

When her dad gets back, her mom says, “Allison, help Isaac bring his stuff to the guestroom with the bathroom. If it looks as if this is going to be permanent arrangement, we’ll work on decorating it.”

“Mom, loves decorating,” she tells him. “She worked as an interior designer once.”

“Cool."

They go out to the car, and he gulps when they open the SUV.

“What’s wrong?”

“Uh, I think this is all of my stuff. Or at least, a lot more than I told him.”

“Are you complaining,” she teases.

“No, not at all."

…

Once Allison is asleep and Isaac is listening to music, Victoria sighs. “This, perhaps, wasn’t the best way to handle things.”

“It should be fine,” Chris assures her. “I’ll talk to the sheriff tomorrow, and you can sort things out at school. On the weekend, we can both talk to Whittemore. He’s neighbours with the Laheys, and I doubt he knew it was this bad, but he’s said before that he hates how some parents in this town treat their kids. There’s a good possibility that was a partial reference to Lahey.”

He holds her tighter. “I’m going to be out-numbered if I try to bring up the fact she barged into the house of a man she knew might dangerous isn’t something that should be encouraged.”

“I agree with you,” she says. “But she’s seventeen, and what she was focused on was the person she thought might be in danger. I can’t imagine where she got such instincts from,” she pointedly concludes.

Laughing, he answers, “I don’t know. You had her for seven years.”

“And we’ve had her for ten years with her being daddy’s little girl. It’s safe to blame it on you.” She brings his hand up and kisses it.

…

The four quickly settle into a routine.

One Sunday morning, Isaac inquires, “Mrs Argent, could I be like you and Allison?”

“Not until you’re eighteen, dear,” she answers. “There are beyond rare exceptions, but it’s generally agreed an alpha should never bite anyone without consent. And I personally believe, without there being extraordinary circumstances, teenagers shouldn’t be bitten. Or at least, not those under eighteen. Focus on having a normal, human adolescence right now. When you’re older, you can start deciding how deeply you truly want to be a part of the supernatural world.”


End file.
